Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3) by Milo Fowler (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📕

A fervent murmur runs through the crowd as heads nodded emphatically, but no one speaks up. Luther raises his hands again, and they quiet down. “I understand your anxiety, and I will not insult you by saying there is no cause for concern. Cain’s people are strangers among us, and it is human nature to distrust what is unfamiliar. But you have my word: they will not harm a single one of you while they are here. It is not you they are interested in, but rather a band of travelers who are now on their way to the Homeplace.”

“Who the hell is Cain?” I whisper to Samson.

The cyborg points a metallic digit, directing my attention back to Luther.

“As you well know, it has been my desire for some time to unite our two peoples—those of us who reside in these caves and our friends on the coast in Cain’s Shipyard. Some of you have accompanied me as we’ve gone to visit Cain’s people to encourage them to join us, to invite them here to the Homeplace.” Luther rests his gaze upon Samson, and all eyes focus on the big man.

There’s virtually the same expression on each of their faces: a profound respect, akin to what they show Luther. But with Samson it’s different, somehow. The only thing I can compare it to brings back memories of my youth in Sector 30, playing football in secondary school. My team respected our quarterback; we’d seen him in action, and we trusted him.

Samson is this team’s quarterback, and Luther is their venerable coach.

“But Cain would not accept our offer of kinship,” Luther continues. “He does not believe as we do, that we are all children of the Creator. The spirits of the earth have changed us with the Creator’s blessing, and it is His desire for us to be united as one family, not divided as we are.”

“But they serve a false god!” a voice shouts from the back of the assembly. A few heads turn to look at who spoke while a few others nod in agreement. Most remain transfixed on their leader. Apparently, heartfelt interruptions aren’t uncommon here.

“The Creator does not require belief from His creation,” Luther goes on, unfazed. “We all have been given the same choice, to accept or reject His existence. I am sure some of us gathered here today do not share my beliefs. I don’t expect you to. The Homeplace is welcome to all. I ask only that you respect my beliefs and those of others who see our Creator’s hand where you may not.”

Heads nod, voices murmur assent. I shift my weight on the rock. I’m a little uncomfortable, but it’s not entirely due to the seating arrangement. Attending some kind of religious revival wasn’t on my radar. I glance up at Samson and wonder if the big man counts himself among Luther’s faithful—or Daiyna, even.

Somehow I doubt it. Neither of them strike me as the holy type.

“We have welcomed these men and women from Cain’s tribe. They may stay with us for as long as they like. It is our hope that they would choose to dwell with us permanently.” Luther pauses, sweeping the assembly with his serious gaze. “We are stronger together than we are apart. The daemons are our common enemy. Now as for the travelers on their way, I know there have been rumors circulating, and I blame no one for spreading them. But today we have time only for the truth.”

“Agreed!” shouts a voice from the opposite side of the cavern.

Again, Luther does not appear perturbed by the interruption. “As we have known for some time, this continent is under quarantine by what remains of the United World Navy. Their ships patrol the coast, allowing no one to leave our shores or to land on them—not that any have tried.” He pauses. “Until now.”

Silence holds the cavern. Luther has their undivided attention.

“It’s no secret that the children of Daiyna, Shechara, Samson, and myself are being held in Eden where they were genetically engineered.” Luther nods his head under the sudden deluge of curses and booing. I shrink beside Samson. “Those children are ours, regardless of how they came into being. They belong here. With us.”

A roar of approval erupts from the crowd.

“Mr. Tucker.” Luther singles me out with a grim smile and a hand raised toward my vicinity. I nearly choke in the face of the attention focused on me from all sides, whether or not they can actually see me. “Our invisible friend brought two of the children to us, braving harsh elements and the daemons to get them here. For that, we are eternally grateful.”

Hesitant applause sputters from the crowd as murmurs circulate and eyes shift. I dip my head and glance sidelong at no one in particular, hoping with everything in me that Luther won’t ask me to make some kind of speech.

“Bring them.” Luther’s attention shifts to a pair of sentries standing in a corridor at the edge of the gathering.

With nods to Luther, they disappear for a few seconds. When they return, they carry the two canisters I brought out of Eden. I don’t recognize either sentry as being a member of my welcoming committee, but none of that really matters right now. The babies are safe, and by all appearances, the pods are still sealed shut. They continue to blink, indicating that all of the incubation systems are operating and the life signs are at healthy levels—everything Margo told me to look out for. I find myself releasing a sigh of relief I didn’t know I’ve been holding, and inadvertently my gaze shifts toward Daiyna.

Her eyes are fixed on the two pods like they’re bombs about to go off without warning. She doesn’t blink. Shechara, seated beside her, places a hand on Daiyna’s forearm, and she seems to break from her reverie.

“This is why they have come.” Luther opens his hands toward the two unborn children before him. “The United World is dying.